


For His Protection

by TaliciaEm



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Stiles, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Bottom!Stiles, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Top Derek, Top Derek Hale, Top!Derek, bot!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:05:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaliciaEm/pseuds/TaliciaEm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The alpha pack is brutally murdering people in Beacon Hills, namely virgins. Stiles worries he might be next. Derek offers to help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment if you like it, because it certainly is going to put me in a better mood to get Part 2 written and posted faster. ;)
> 
> This idea hit me after watching the latest episode of Teen Wolf that just aired (303), this STEREK idea hit me. Don't read if you haven't seen it yet, just in case. :)  
> Here's Part 1 on WattPad as well if you'd like to support me by commenting there. :D. http://www.wattpad.com/story/6328645-for-his-protection  
> Cover made from an image from this post: http://down-with-these-ships.tumblr.com/post/53021315343/

Stiles took the steps to the rickety porch one at a time and very cautiously. They looked like they might collapse at the slightest touch, and the idea that they would do so under his weight made him nervous.

He raised his closed fist to the back of the door. The paint was peeled and the door shredded even more than it had been the last time he was here with Scott. Stiles remembered his friend going completely apeshit to find out what was beneath it as Derek refused to stray from his usual cryptic responses.

Knuckles just inches from the door, Stiles suddenly dropped his hand and decided instead to kick the door open with the tip of his sneaker. He stepped inside carefully as if he expected something to fall on him as he crossed the threshold, or the door to come right off it’s hinges. 

The house was dark, and gloomy, as it always was. There was no sign of movement, apart from a few leaves by his feet blowing about after a particularly strong gust of wind followed Stiles in the abandoned building.

“Derek?” he called out, still moving dangerously slow. There was no answer. 

He was terrified, and to be completely honest, not at all certain why he even agreed to come here. Of course he called Scott up immediately after Derek had left a rather vague message on his phone, but only got the machine. He cursed Allison for taking away his best friend, as they hardly spent more than twenty minutes time together in weeks. Free time that is. He didn’t particularly constitute chasing down a pack of murderous alphas as ‘bonding’.

“Derek!”

Stiles ventured further into the house, heading towards the area that looked familiar. There was a table there, which he remembered from his last visit, but this time it was cloaked in wine red fabric. It certainly didn’t look like it matched the house, contrasting brilliantly against the splintered wood of the furniture legs that it only reached mid-way of, and it most definitely wasn’t there before.

Derek didn’t live here anymore, and so the grand house was legitimately abandoned now. He’d hadn’t spent much time inside it, but the little he had didn’t seem to help at all to calm him as everything about it still made Stiles want to run back to the safety of his trusty jeep and drive away.

Stepping towards the table, the teenager leaned hesitantly against it. Resting his backside gently atop it’s edge, afraid it might break in half if he put his whole weight on it, he delved into his pocket for his cellphone. Stiles checked the time quickly and then his texts, bringing up that same message the werewolf had sent him not that long ago.

 _I can help you_ , it said. 

Stiles brow furrowed again as he re-read the words. _Help me with what?_

_Meet me in the woods. You know where. 9-o_ **_’_ ** _clock. Tonight._

It was 8:56 now.

He thought about blowing it off, and pretending he never got it. He’d get Scott to vouch for him… somehow, but despite the fact that Stiles was becoming more comfortable around the older man, Derek still scared the shit out of him sometimes …most of the time. The idea of what he might do had Stiles chosen to ignore him, well …frankly  it freaked him out more than walking through the woods alone after sun-down.

So here he was.

Running a hand through the crop of hair on his head, Stiles fluffed it up, slightly aggravated, before lifting his phone closer to his face. He scanned his address book for a name and then tapped once when he found it. He immediately heard a slight buzzing and pushed off the table somewhat startled before pressing forward to where he swore he could hear it’s source. In another chair across from him sat a blinking mobile.

“Stiles.”

A voice came from the shadows behind him and Stiles almost dropped his phone.

“Jeeesus …Chryy-stuh! Derek! You’ve been standing there the whole time haven’t you?”

Derek said nothing, simply grinned as he walked under a few streams of moonlight beating down into the house. His pearly whites looked as though they shined, and somehow his smile made him and his stupidly handsome face look even more so like he just came from the pages of the latest issue of _Gentleman’s Quarterly_.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice alone sending chills down Stiles spine even without the threatening tone .

“Mmhm. What do you want? I was just about to hit the sack before you so rudely interrupted me,” answered Stiles, pocketing his cellular and turning all the way around to face the other male.

“It’s nine o’clock, Stiles.”

“Yeah? I have a chem test in the morning,” came the younger males reply, swallowing down something in his throat which tasted a lot like nerves. “Believe it or not, I need my beauty sleep. I don’t just wake up looking this good.”

Derek scoffed, and Stiles frowned a little.

“Is that so?”

“Uh.. Yeah!”

His boots clunked against the wooden floor as Derek took a few steps closer. His arms were crossed over his chest, which reminded Stiles of his father when he was about to scold him for something, but his face was surprisingly content. It wasn’t a look Derek had too often, at least not when the awkward teenager was around. He had a habit of making a lot of people uncomfortable, or so he has been told.

“I want to ask you something,” said Derek, stopped about a foot away. Stiles was surprised himself that he hadn’t instinctively moved just as many steps backwards. There was a wall behind him anyway, so he wouldn’t have made it far without clunking his head against it, but still he internally applauded himself for standing ground.

“You know, Derek. There’s this new thing… it’s called a ‘phone’… Uh.. You couldn’t have, maybe…Oh, I don’t know. Used it?”

Stiles watched almost hypnotically as Derek’s tongue came up to lick at the polished surface of one of his retracted fangs. They weren’t nearly as intimidating that way, sheathed within his gums, but should the wolf want to use them it would be far too easy to pop them out again. The anxiety caused by this thought made Stiles bite down hard on his lip.

“You know, I would have,” started Derek, his hazel eyes fixing on Stiles so intensely that the younger male thought he might be prepping to pounce, “But what I do to you next would depend entirely on your answer.”

Stiles gulped loudly, and his voice cracked when he tried to speak. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“What?”

“The attacks around Beacon Hills. How much do you know about them?”

“The brutal murders, you mean? Not much, other than what’s in the papers,” answers Stiles. He wish he could tear his eyes from Derek’s, but whenever he tried his found their way back to the man’s gaze as if drawn to it.

“Stiles.” The way Derek said his name sounded like a warning. 

“You’re father is the police chief, and your best friend's mother has access to the bodies. I know you Stiles. You didn’t stop at the newspapers.”

Derek wasn’t wrong. Not totally. Actually, Stiles hadn’t even picked up a newspaper. Everything he knew now was either from sneaking a peak at case files the Sheriff made the mistake leaving alone on the kitchen table for a few minutes, or from Mrs. McCall. He had sworn not to say anything to anyone about it, both because she could easily lose her job and she had threatened him with a very violent and painful death if he did. Stiles believed her.

“It’s just a theory really. I don’t even know if it’s true.”

Derek raised his eyebrows in a way he often did which either silently told Stiles to cut it out or continue. This time he was sure he meant the latter.

“I think it’s more than just murder… they’re …”

“Sacrifices.”

“Exactly!” 

The werewolf nodded his head as he unfolded his arms from his chest, muscles rippling. His biceps looked even bigger than they did when they had first met, which made sense since obviously Derek looked like the type to take great pride in his appearance. He’d certainly be keeping a steady regime at the gym, but with all that’s been going down lately, Stiles wondered where he found the time.

Walking a few steps closer, Derek began to circle the thinner male. Stiles tried not to follow him all the way around and resisted the urge to roll his eyes back in his head.

“Anything else?” asked the brunette. He was so close now that Stiles could feel his breath on his neck. What was really unsettling was the fact that he didn’t entirely mind the way the hairs their stood on end.

“Well … uh …they all seem to be …virgins.”

Derek stopped moving again, but this time he was standing right in front of him. The close proximity brought back memories of that time Stiles had found the unexpected alpha hiding out in his room. After  narrowly missing an altercation with Papa Stilinski he found himself pushed hard up against his door shortly after when Derek had suspected Stiles might have silently outed him.

“That bothers you?” wondered Derek, studying the young man’s features.

“Uh… Ch’yeah! What if I’m next?”

Derek’s immediate assurance Stiles supposed was meant to be a guarantee for his protection. 

“You won’t be,” the dark one said, but the teen was none too convinced of this.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, hot shot. But unlike you, they don’t line up around the block to hop on this ride.” Stiles eyes spanned the length of Derek’s body in one quick swipe to avoid detection, though he probably wasn’t as subtle as he thought considering the smile that curved the other man’s lips upwards after he did so. 

Derek was gorgeous, that much was clear. What with his luscious jet-black hair, just the right length to run your fingers through; thick, dark brows that highlighted his beautiful green-brown eyes wonderfully; just the right amount of stubble along a well-defined jaw, and lips not too plump nor thinned, perfect for kissing — the man was a vision. The ladies flocked to him, as did a good portion of the men, and Stiles couldn’t blame them.

He let out a chuckle, showcasing his great teeth again, and lifted his hand to the suspicious male’s face.

Stiles thought for a moment he might get slapped, as it wasn’t too uncommon a response to a lot of the idiotic things that came out of his mouth on a regular basis. Instead Derek gripped the back of his neck, spreading his fingers out at the nape, his thumb running briefly over the bone in his cheek.

“I can help you,” he said softly, matching the words in the text.

“All you’ve got to do is ask.”


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 - We get into the good stuff, but the real juicy stuff happens in the last part. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments make me happy, happiness makes me more willing to write. You know what to do. :P

Derek was so close now that Stiles wasn’t sure whether to pay attention to his fear or the swirling in his stomach. He was breathing deeply as if he had just run a race of some kind. Stiles swallowed again, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he came to the realization that the other males sudden race in pulse was more likely the fight to stay in control.

“You’re joking right?” asked Stiles, his voice wavering a little.

Derek shook from side to side before angling his head closer to the younger’s neck and inhaling deeply. Stiles held his breath for a moment and prayed to God that he had remembered deodorant. The scent of perspiration and terror would certainly be a mood killer, and to be completely honest, he wasn’t so sure that’s what he wanted.

His eyelids fluttered shut for the briefest of moments as Derek’s hot breath his his skin.

“Does it look like I’m joking, Stiles?” said Derek, and his voice was a little raspy.

“Uh.. Well, you are kind of impeding on my personal space more than usual, so … n-no, I guess not.” 

The front door slammed shut behind them, such a loud noise would normally have Stiles flailing just as he might had he discovered a tarantula crawling up his arm, but in the moment he found he could not move. It was as if someone had nailed his feet to the floor and sprayed him with liquid nitrogen.

Though his mouth remain open, temporarily at a loss for words, the teen found movement regained in his limbs again as Derek suddenly took him by the wrist. Walking backwards, not once bothering to look behind him for obstructions, stepping over broken boards and glass effortlessly, the hunkier male lead Stiles to the table. 

His steps felt heavy as he walked and the need to stand upright on his own two felt was ever stronger which in turn made Stiles much more certain that he might fall flat on his face if the wolf wasn’t their to catch him.

Soon Derek stopped moving, hitting the table’s edge, but Stiles did not as he was pulled impossibly close to the point where he could probably have counted the hairs speckling the alpha’s chin.

Derek’s smile was smile was still fixed on his face, and the things it was doing to Stiles were a little unsettling, though it was unclear whether that was due to fear or otherwise. The way they were standing, so close that at most one could fit a hand through between their stomachs, made Stiles feel a little awkward but he didn’t dare move. Derek had since released his grip on Stiles wrist and now held to the rim of the table behind him.

“You’re serious about this?” he was basically just reformatting his earlier question, but for some reason Stiles felt like he needed to buy some time, expecting that at any moment Derek would lose his patience.

Derek raised his bushy brows in agreement and gave a half nod. Stiles bit his lip.

For years there had only been one person in his sights. One person who he fawned over incessantly and was willing to do just about anything to get into her good graces. She treated him like he was invisible, and even though it hurt sometimes, it didn’t change how he felt for her.

That was before Derek came into the picture. It’s not to say that his feelings for Lydia had disappeared entirely, in fact, they might have even grown stronger in his attempts to compete against Jackson, but his attraction to the long, lost Hale deviant was undeniable. It would be a lie to say otherwise, and in the end, when Stiles realized he would never be more than a good friend, his sights switched to the man with the permanent brood.

It wasn’t long after Scott was turned that Derek became their confident for all things supernatural; which meant a lot of long and painful nights of condescending tones, daggered glares and criminal threats. Rather than turn him away however, this sparked Stiles intrigue even more. When he managed to finally break through that hard outer shell, the wolf wasn’t so big and bad after all.

“How do you know I’m even into you?” Stiles asked after a period of uncomfortable silence.

“Aren’t you?” 

Stiles eyes went wide and his hands, which he’d plunged into his pockets, were twisting and turning about in the shallow dip of denim. He dropped his gaze immediately after the smirk on Derek’s face grew wider, drinking in the view on the way down. Derek’s grey t-shirt clung to him so well it was as though it was custom made for him, and his black pants showed off his muscled thighs then gradually loosened towards the bottom to reveal charcoal boots where he hadn’t bothered to tie the laces.

He swore it had only been a quick look, but when Stiles looked back up again Derek looked more than pleased with himself. He licked his lips absentmindedly and without a thought to the fact that he was probably staring again, Stiles mirrored the same action. His breathing had become ragged, despite his efforts to calm himself. _Breathe Stiles, breathe._

Stiles was just about to try his his luck at testing his motor skills, lifting his foot to take a step backwards from the situation, but without warning Derek’s hands were on him again. They held the teen at his waste, firmly but not too tight that Stiles would classify it as uncomfortable.

“Woah woah woah, big guy!” he said almost immediately, lifting both hands up to push weakly at the broad expanse of muscle that was Derek’s chest, “I didn’t say yes.”

“Not vocally, no.” Derek did not relinquish his grip. “But I know how to read people, Stiles, and your body is _screaming_ for it.”

Stiles willed the fluttering in his abdomen to stop, hoping that if he could kill off the angry bats bustling about in there that he might cut off the link, but it was no use. He knew better than to try and fight against Derek’s heightened senses, but it didn’t stop him from trying even though every time he did he failed.

Suddenly Stiles arms felt like lead and they fell limp against Derek’s chest. There was a part of him that wanted to protest, that didn’t care for the elder male’s advances, but as much as Stiles tried to inflate that part to block out his bodies more primal urges, the pump kept breaking, and to make matters worse — there was a damn whole in the negatory balloon.

“It’s your call, Stiles,” said Derek, breaking the young man’s train of thought. “If you say ‘No’, I will let you walk out that door right now. But if your answer’s ‘Yes,’” he grinned and Stiles legs almost gave out underneath him. There was a reason he didn’t …couldn’t, spend this much time alone with Derek. 

“Well … we’ll figure something out,” he finished, and Stiles swore he saw him glance back at the cloaked table.

It wasn’t fair that Derek was putting him on the spot like this; taking advantage of his inability to maintain control of his own testosterone driven body, but he certainly didn’t want to die a virgin. He didn’t want to die anytime soon, period! But as a virgin — No way! Certainly not for some stupid ritualistic sacrifice. 

Stiles was still playing out the possible solutions to this problem in his head when his survival instinct kicked in. Before he knew it he was on Derek, sucking and biting at his lips like they were slathered in honey and he was a hungry bear. 

It felt a little awkward at first, whether it be the way they were standing, too much saliva, or the fact that Stiles was simply a lot more eager than he thought, but soon he found a steady rhythm and Derek followed suite. This wasn’t technically his first time kissing a boy, if you counted that quick peck with Brian Oracle in elementary school, but it was his first time really knowing how. 

Derek was raking at Stiles lower back, pushing aside the plaid button-down he wore over top of his favourite band tee. This certainly led Stiles to believe that whatever he was doing was a good thing, but it wasn’t until he heard the older male making appreciative sounds deep in his throat that he thought it appropriate to mental praise himself for it.

When the fabric of Stiles t-shirt gave way, as Derek blindly scrambled for the hem to slide it upwards, his nails scratching lightly against the nodes of the leaner one’s spine, to which the teen pulled back in protest.

“Hey! Watch it with those!” he said, mildly alarmed, though his brain was too focussed on another part of his body to put too much power behind his exclamation. “As impressive as your wolf-itude is, I would rather not wake up on the next full moon with the intense urge to slaughter everyone I meet and drink their fluids.”

Derek let out an exhilarated chuckle; Stiles tended to exaggerate.

“That’s vampires,” he corrected, then ducked in to lick a line up the side of Stiles throat. “Besides, I haven’t broken the skin. You’re fine.”

For several moments the pair remained locked in this embrace. Stiles eventually moved his arms around to grip his partner’s strong shoulders, and Derek took the opportunity  when the teen pulled away for a breath of air, to hoist him upwards. Stiles wrapped his legs tightly around the brunette’s middle, strengthening his hold on Derek’s deltoids.

He was shaking, embarrassingly violent to which Stiles tried his very hardest to ignore it. Though it looked like he had just been doused with a bucket of cold water, his flesh felt heated, and Stiles began to wonder how much of that was his own body heat and what was simply transfer from the waves of torridity emitting from the man who held him.

Stiles had developed somewhat of a pattern to kissing Derek. Deciding he equally enjoyed the feel of his upper lip trapped between another pair, as he did with the warmth of his bottom one when Derek sucked it into his mouth, he pressed his mouth to the werewolf's lower for two beats then did the same for the top.

The younger male pulled away reluctantly when he felt the pulse of his phone going off in the depths of his pocket. His fingers massaged at the back of Derek’s neck, and Stiles could feel two strong hands holding his rear as he reached for his cellphone against his better judgement. His sex-addled mind told him to throw it across the room, but his sanity prevailed long enough for him to check the screen.

He groaned when he saw the name.

“It’s Scott,” he said simply.

Derek made an similar sound of dismay.

“What’s he want?”

“I don’t have telepathy, Derek. I would have to answer it to find that out.”

The alpha gave him one of those looks that clearly meant ‘ _So do it then!_ ’; Stiles rolled his eyes but obeyed.

“Scott! Hey! What’s crackalackin’?”

Derek shook his head and smiled.

“Ah, you’re with Allison?”

Stiles rolled his eyes again. Of course. Where else would Scott be.

“Let me ask you something. Do I sound surprised to you? Because really… I am,” the younger male let out a laugh that was so typically Stiles, full of sarcasm and the faintest tinge of amusement. His legs were starting to tingle a bit, but to remedy that he could do nothing more than tighten his legs vice-like grip to cut off the sensation all together. If Derek chose to set him down though Stiles wasn’t sure his limbs would do well to support him.

“Where am I… uh… would you believe hanging with Derek?” This time his laughter was genuine, and he couldn’t help but to spare a glance down. There was chortling on the line as well, the wolf could hear it as smoothly as if the phone were pressed to his own ear. Of course Scott didn’t believe him, and that’s what Stiles was hoping for.

“Yeah, of course you don’t … I’m actually at home watching shitty re-runs and making sure my Dad doesn’t hit the liquor too hard. Those murders have had him up all night. You should see him, case files everywhere, it doesn’t look like he’s showered for… what? Yeah, yeah. It’s fine, I’ll survive. Tell Allison I said ‘Hi’, oh and ‘I want my man back!’” 

Stiles laughed again, for the final time and the phone clicked on the other end, to which he responded by flipping it shut. Before stuffing it back in his pocket, Derek watched as he pushed down on one of the top-most buttons along the mobile’s side.

“It’s off,” he said, his voice heady, “Ravage me.”


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I was wrong. It'll be 4 parts .. I think.. possibly. xD

“If you ask me if ‘I’m sure’ one more time, Derek, you may just succeed in talking me out of it?”

Derek raised an eye brow, but his face was buried in Stiles neck so there was no way the younger male would have seen it.

“Really?” he inquired. Stiles hadn’t stopped shaking since they started, and his body began to quake even more so once Derek had finally managed to spread him out over the table.

He didn’t doubt that the more he pressed the topic, the more Stiles would think towards running right out the door, chased by his own fears, but the teen’s voice didn’t sound in a tone that said he was ready to flee. Even if he did, he wouldn’t get far what with Derek’s supernatural speed carrying him to his flank in seconds. He wouldn’t force himself on Stiles if that was not what he wanted, but the brunette certainly wouldn’t allow him to leave. Not at this hour.

Stiles licked his lips and closed his eyes for a moment, suddenly feeling very self conscious about his body and very aware to the fact that his shirt was strewn a few feet away on the floor; away from his grasp.

Derek’s body was reacting to their actions as well, though certainly not in a way Stiles would even begin to understand — apart from the obvious rigidness developing down below. Stiles could feel it through the denim of his thigh.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared of Derek. His heart was beating so fast he though it might explode, and that wasn’t just because of what they were about to do.

As a werewolf, sometimes Derek was unable to control himself. Sometimes he was unaware he was doing something wrong until after it had already happened. Stiles had been witness to this on a few occasions; then cowering behind a slab of drywall and paint afterwards whilst waiting for the man to return to some semblance of human form and mentality.

When the beast within took over, there was no telling how strong those reins would be. Derek usually held a tight hold, but his animalistic desires were strong, and not even Derek knew just how well he could suppress them.

Derek’s shoulders were shaking as he planted a series of kisses down the side of Stiles neck. He’d never been one for gentleness, and on occasion he would forget that’s what he was striving for and sucked on the skin a little too hard, leaving a red splotch of colour.

Stiles whimpered as Derek continued his ministrations. He worked at the flesh with his lips and tongue so intently it was as if he were working on a project.

“Uh.. Der…Derek,” he said brokenly, and the older male leaned up again. He was standing at the foot of the table in-between Stiles spread legs which hung over the edge somewhat awkwardly and uncomfortably. Unlike Stiles, he was fully clothed, just as before, and it didn’t seem fair.

Propping himself up on his elbows, the teen’s line of vision connected right with Derek’s middle due to his avoidance to meet the green eyes watching him.

“Obviously I’m not an expert, but …aren’t you supposed to… you know, take something off for this to…” Stiles train of thought hit a solid stop. Crashing with a fiery explosion, bits of metal flew every which way as the man who stood over top of him reached down for the hem of his shirt immediately and pulled it up over his head. When he dropped it by their feet and then turned back to look at the male lain there and rest his palms above the human’s knees, Stiles eyes were running zig-zag patterns all over his chest. He hadn’t a clue where to look now.

“Better?” Derek asked, and Stiles shook his head.

“Honestly, no. You just made my …situation, ten times worse.”

Stiles wished he could say he was being subtle, but he knew for a fact that it was an impossibility. His eyes trailed over the rippling muscles of his partner’s abs — his tongue tracing the indentations and hard lines of definition, in his mind — and then the firm padding of his pectorals, which Stiles longed to touch but didn’t have the nerve.

There was a smile on Derek’s face now, which no matter how many times he did it Stiles didn’t think he would ever get used to, considering how often he was met with a frown. Then the man leaned towards him again. This time he hoisted himself on the table as well, one knee at a time, ruffling the tablecloth which Stiles assumed was there for comfort but it really didn’t do much to cushion the decay on the surface beneath it. 

The teen worried for a moment that the table might collapse under his weight _and_ that of a hulking werewolf man, but the thought was gone before he could pay more mind to it.

Derek suspended himself on his hands, placed on either side of Stiles head, for a while and it gave the latter a chance to examine his face closer before the other was too close to see much but his hazel peepers. The younger male’s gaze went first to the sharp angle of his jaw, stubbled with hair, and it brought attention to the slight burn on his face from their earlier make-out session.

When Derek ducked in and began to tongue the area of Stiles neck where he had been not long before, knowing that it was one of the younger male’s favoured spots judging by the sounds he made when the wet muscle touched there, Stiles groaned again. His jeans were strained already, and all they had done so far was kiss. He certainly did not want to be the one to interrupt Derek, but… there was something he had to know. 

Well, not had to, needed to.

“I’m probably going to hate myself for this but…” Stiles pushed at Derek’s shoulders, finding not surprisingly that he was much harder to move than expected. “Why do you _want_ to help me?”

Derek exhaled deeply as if he were miffed by such a plain question. He often complained of Stiles annoyances so it wasn’t completely unlikely.

“Simple,” he said, “You’ll die if I don’t.”

Although Stiles supposed he ought to feel some sort of gratitude for Derek’s willingness to do what it took to protect him, he felt more like he should take this answer as an insult.

“Oh. Wow. My he-ro,” he said unenthusiastically, and then making a checkmark in the air. “Bang Stilinski so he doesn’t become a sacrificial offering. Check!” He knew Derek was probably right on the money, as he was just a human — a rather thin and unthreatening one at that — and if it did come down to being the next pick, he’d not be much of a challenge.

“I don’t mean it like that, Stiles.”

Stiles raised his eye brows, slightly wrinkling his forehead. He hardly noticed his hands had made their way to Derek’s shoulders and were making lazy circles.

“Oh? So there’s a possibility you might actually … you know, _dig me_ , otherwise?”

“Dig you?” Derek repeated, and with the way his lips curled upwards at the ends made Stiles fully expect laughter. 

“Not a possibility. No.” Stiles eyes crinkled in disappointment, and his brows immediately knotted.

“But a guarantee. Absolutely.”

Taking advantage of the way Stiles mouth fell open at this discovery, Derek slid his tongue into the other males mouth and swiped it all along the lower side of his top lip. It didn’t take long before Stiles was following his lead again and they kissed fiercely; Stiles, like it was his last, and Derek, with the inability at this point to do anything gently. The wolf within was fired up and ready to go.

The table shook every time Derek moved, creaked a little too, but neither one really noticed, nor cared. Derek’s hand was holding the side of the teens face as he continued to taste Stiles bottom lip and his other was sliding down his side. Though the latter had a pretty good idea where it was going — as he was definitely aware of it — it didn’t completely register until a few seconds after.

Derek’s hand was cupping the firmness between Stiles legs, and his fingers were working such a delicious rhythm into the material that the younger male was convinced they held some sort of magical properties.

Their lips only parted for a moment as Derek made the gap between them wider to unbutton Stiles jeans. He then dragged the zipper down with one hand, plunging his digits inside. It was very possible he had done this before, but Stiles didn’t really want to think about that. 

Stiles heart was beating faster than normal, and naturally he knew why; Derek must as well. He willed it to slow down to a more natural pulse but to no avail. 

“Sorry,” said Stiles, when Derek noticed the younger one’s distance in what they were doing. Even with a hand directly over Stiles cock, lazily sliding his fingers up and down over the heated flesh, he wasn’t exactly getting the response he expected. It wasn’t the response he wanted.

“You’re nervous.”

_Way to state the fucking obvious._

“You want me to stop? Slow down maybe?” Derek began to pull his hand from the confines of Stiles boxer shorts. Making the boldest move he had all night, Stiles grabbed Derek by the wrist to immediately halt his actions.

“Actually,” Stiles swallowed down the fear that was rising in his throat. The aftertaste was there where it had almost made it halfway across his tongue in the form of anxious words and unwanted protests, but the human was determined to wash it away.

“Think maybe we could …speed it up?”

Derek’s teeth gritted suddenly and his jaw began to twitch as if he were holding something back. If they were in any other moment Stiles might had run off with his tail between his legs, figuratively speaking, but he knew that this was just a result of their actions. He was getting hot and his inner animal wanted to come out and enjoy the fun too.

He made a little growl, which Stiles had always found sexy in a certain manner, although he would never admit that to anyone out loud, and Derek’s chest began to heave. The werewolf was rearing it’s head, trying to take Derek over. Stiles gulped loudly, but he didn’t move an inch. The hand on his junk —which then had Stiles writhing on the table at the sudden tightness — was working in a way that it showed the teen the older male was still very aware of his limits. Derek was still in there somewhere, and Stiles believed he would protect him.

Hopping down off the table, Derek’s face was focussed on Stiles naked torso. His gaze then fixed on Stiles own and the though the intensity should ought of made the young male uncomfortable, he found himself staring back with equal fervour. He’d had a thing for Derek for years, with had plans to lose his virginity for much longer. In many locations and situations. Stiles could honestly say this was not one of them, and he cursed that fact because it would have been an insanely hot fantasy.

Derek’s hands worked his own pants open in milliseconds and soon they were on the floor by his feet. He stepped out of them quickly and then kicked them half way across the room as if they were on fire. When he went to do the same for his fitted boxer-briefs, Stiles watched his every movement before his eyes went wide and he squeezed his eyes immediately shut.

“Oh my god!” he said. 


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut smutty smut smut!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written smut in years, so please don't be too hard on me. If I got some shit wrong too, again, I apologize, but this is my first Sterek fic. O__o *hides in a closet somewhere so I can't hear the disappointed screams of terror*

Stiles eyes popped open almost as fast as he had closed them, and as Derek climbed up onto the table again, it creaked under him. The heavy weight of Derek’s cock could be felt through the denim and the heat was making Stiles head spin a little. Soon the alpha was over top of him, body glistening already with a thin sheen of sweat even though they hadn’t done anything yet. Stiles was burning up, and his breathing was still rough and ragged.

Derek straddled one of Stiles legs and for a quick moment he ground down deliberately against his thigh. Even without skin-on-skin contact Stiles was seeing stars. His eyes were scrunched tightly again. The elder male pressed down harder and smiled when immediately, like the after effects of pushing a button, the teen’s eyes shot open. They were wide almost as if he were just electrocuted.

“Spread ‘em,” said Derek. 

“Okay,” Stiles replied weakly, and obeyed. He hardly recognized his own voice. He spread his legs just wide enough so that Derek could fit both knees on the space in between them if he really wanted to, but the latter made no effort to move. Instead he looked down at Stiles through piercing green, locking their eyes.

“More, Stiles.” The wolf got up on all four, both hands on either side of the young man’s head. His nails scratched against the surface, and Stiles wondered for a brief second when exactly they had come out. His face was still very much Derek, but the rest of his body was reacting differently to the situation.

Lifting one hand, Derek dipped his fingers carefully under Stiles thigh, the one not trapped between his own, and pulled it up and over off the table so it was folded more to his chest and angled away from them. Stiles would have felt very exposed if he didn’t still have his jeans on, but there was nothing he wanted more than to remove them in this moment. He waited for Derek to finish demonstrating what he ought to do with his long limbs then nodded.

Before rolling off to the side on the rather large table, Derek’s hands found Stiles hips. He smiled as his fingers dipped below the waistband by the belt loops, and Stiles winced at the faint scratching of nails against his sensitive skin. Without warning Derek pulled the tough material down, and dragging against the tabletop the action brought his boxer-shorts with them. He was grateful that today he had settled for a plain pair rather than the limited edition _Spidey_ ones he had planned to don to school this morning.

Stiles hissed lightly at the drag of jean on his cock but then let out a exhalation of absolute relief when his member hit the cool air, standing at attention just inches away from where Derek had stopped pulling at the fabric. Derek eased off of the nervous male, his own dick shaking about obscenely with every movement to which Stiles eyes followed every sway and slice. The air was thick with need and whilst some of it came off the elder male, Stiles knew he was the culprit for the vast majority.

Derek’s dick rested for a second on his stomach as he lay on his side, his elbow propping him up and one leg bent, showcasing his impressive length, to watch Stiles push his pants to the floor. They were both painfully hard, but Stiles had his age and lack of previous sexual encounters to blame for that. What was Derek’s excuse?

Stiles brain wouldn’t let him believe it possible that Derek could actually like him, not to mention be turned on by him.

When he had finished removing his pants, they fell to a messy pile on the floor. Derek watched them fall, reminding the teen of a cat zeroing in on a bug on the wall, making sure it didn’t come any closer than it was wanted, then he threw himself over Stiles in one fluid movement. He was heavy, yes, but with surprising control for someone not exactly operating on all … _upstairs_ cylinders. Derek’s biceps strained visible as he tried to settle down gently rather than crash their pelvises together. His brow was furrowed, and there were deep crinkles in between them, so Stiles knew it was taking a lot of effort.

“You’re not going to break me, big guy,” he said as calmly as he could, but his voice was wavering. His nerves were getting the better of him and it most certainly showed even more obviously than Derek’s struggles at restraint. The alpha’s dick hitting his lower abdomen as the male finally nestled his body comfortably onto Stiles, drew out a loud moan. His cheeks turned immediately red when Stiles made the connection in his mind that it sounded an awful lot like one of the adult stars in a film he’d watched earlier. What was most embarrassing was _that guy_ was getting rammed, and all _they_ were doing was touching.

Derek began to move slowly, grinding down with more pressure each time as Stiles moans grew more audible as a sign he was certainly liking this rhythm. Going down so his forearms were flat, further down against the table from Stiles arms, which were stretched out over his head, Derek tucked them under the young male’s own arms. Gripping his shoulders lightly, still sure to keep the majority of his weight off of Stiles, he began to suckle at the latter’s collar bone before moving up to his jaw.

“Ah.. Der…Ahh uh… uhh, Derek!” Each time his partner pushed against him, their cocks sliding together with the combo of sweat and precum, felt trickling down the side of his turgid member, Stiles lost his train of thought; starting and stopping again like a cautious new driver behind the wheel of a car, paranoid they might crash it if they move too fast.

“Do you…Oh God! …Do you have…” Stiles trailed off, too bashful to finish the rest of the sentence. 

Even though he really had no idea why Derek had summoned him hear earlier, Stiles did have a condom in his pocket still now that he thought about it. He certainly knew it wouldn’t fit him — he was decent, but not _huge_ — but, he would bet any money that the werewolf would fill it out nicely. The thought scared him when he thought of where his dick would then be going and he shuddered. 

Derek chuckled lightly, after detaching his lips from the dip of the teen’s throat, and moved up to whisper in his ear.

“We won’t be needing that,” he said, and Stiles knew he probably ought to question this, but his brain was out of commission and there was a new sherif in town — namely the persistent little fucker currently digging into the muscle of Derek’s upper thigh.

Sliding wetly down the side of Stiles neck, over his collar, stopping to circle a nipple which immediately pebbled at the attention, the human could feel Derek’s tongue working its way downwards and it was making Stiles antsy. Reflexively, as the man neared the sensitive area where his cock was leaking embarrassingly, an angry pinkish colour against his belly, Stiles legs began to close. Derek was quick to place both hands on his thighs, kneeling between them, his face dangerously close to unchartered territory. Stiles closed his eyes, and for a moment he hoped that the age-old childhood trickery of ‘I don’t see you, you don’t see me’ would come into play right then.

“You ready?”

Derek’s thumbs were rubbing at small patches of pale skin. Stiles had thrown his arm over his face now.

“Not exactly,” he answered.

Derek smiled, and though Stiles could not see it, he could hear the amusement in his voice.

“You will be.”

Though the visual of Derek ducked down between his legs, a place no one had ever been or _seen_ except him, until now, was most tempting, prying at the arm blocking his vision like a little child pestering it’s mother, Stiles couldn’t just yet bring himself to meet Derek’s gaze. He was afraid. Of course he was. He had good reason to be; and for the first time in years, he was opposed to the part of him that loved cracking jokes and being the centre of it all, simply wanting a giant hand to come out of the night sky and pluck him up. It’s not that Derek’s ministrations weren’t amazing, they were, but fear was beginning to consume him. 

What if this went terrible, horribly wrong.

Stiles thoughts then became an instant sea of alphabet soup in mere seconds as he felt something hot against his most private of places. He darted up in an instant to see Derek’s hazel eyes looking right at him. _Damn it!_ There was not looking away now. Stiles eyes almost rolled right out the back of his head when he felt the heat again, and now he knew what it was. The alpha’s mouth was just inches away from the entrance to his body, and his tongue was swiping back and forth over the top set of his teeth.

“Ever been here before?” he asked, and Derek turned his head to lick a small strip of saliva up the innermost part of Stiles thigh. Stiles shook his head violently, his eyes wide. He was finding it very hard to breathe now.

 _No one_ had been there before — not even him.

Derek’s grin after receiving this news should have been a little frightening, especially since Stiles had a clear view of his dangerously sharp teeth right now, which had pushed through the gums a while earlier when Mr. Wolf had tried to come out and play. But the fact that Derek was a werewolf surprisingly wasn’t what freaked him out most in that moment. What did was the act that the older man was about to perform next, though he was most certain he would like it, the idea of someone being down there was also kind of unnerving.

“You’re too tense, Stiles.” Stiles watched Derek intently as he reached for a small bottle sitting at the closest corner of the table which he hadn’t even noticed before now. There was a pearly, silver-coloured liquid inside. Reminding Stiles a bit of chrome. Derek didn’t uncork it, just moved it closer, and then scooped his arms back under the  young man’s legs so once again his breathe was making Stiles clench involuntarily.

“I can fix that.”

Stiles swallowed deeply, his vision still locked on Derek, and then as the werewolf’s tongue plunged without warning into his hole, he couldn’t be more thankful for their location, deep in the woods, where it was unlikely anyone would hear him scream.

Without even thinking, Stiles hands made a beeline for Derek’s hair, gripping it tightly. At first he was worried he was pulling on it too hard, but that thought hardly stayed to say ‘Hello’ before he found himself willing Derek’s tongue to go deeper, pushing, tugging, urging, pulling and screaming. He’d jacked off many times, sure, what teenage boy hasn’t? But despite admitted curiosity as to what the sensation might be like, Stiles never tried to play with himself there.

In this moment he was regretting that fact.

Stiles breathing was so ragged that if they were to be interrupted right now, brought to an unexpected stop, as long as no one had walked in on them in the middle then one easily would have thought he already had sex. His face was red, from embarrassment, not exertion, and his body was slick with nervousness, not the aftermath of steamy passion, but it was doubtful that the average person would know the difference. 

Scott would. Scott most definitely would.

“Oh God! …Oh my…Gaww-duh! Der… Derek… Stop!”

He didn’t want him to stop, but he certainly didn’t want to cum before Derek had the chance to get inside him. He could already feel the familiar tingle rising in his stomach. It would be embarrassing, but most of all, far from gratifying.

With one last gentle swirl of the wet muscle, then drag upwards and over Stiles balls which tightened momentarily at the brief contact, Derek sat up.

He looked to the glass bottle next to him, which Stiles had nearly nocked over with his squirming, and then back to the teen. Stiles was having a hard time deciding on where to look and slide up and down his body several times, stopping on his eyes for scarcely a second and then back down to  his member, which looked even more incredible up close. Thick, lengthy, red. Spectacular and terrifying.

Stiles chest heaved. Derek grabbed for the lube blindly. He didn’t open it until he had received confirmation from Stiles in the form of a nod.

The cork bounced a few times and then rolled away from him as Derek pulled it from the bottle with his teeth and spat it towards the table. Stiles caught it before it fell over the edge and squeezed it nervously in his hands.

The liquid was thick and shimmery, and when it hit Derek’s fingers it slid effortlessly like oil through each digit. The alpha swirled it about on the pads of his index and middle fingers with aid of his thumb before pulling his body a bit closer to Stiles with his clean hand. He placed it flat against one of the human’s trembling thighs and as he caressed the skin their calmingly, he worked his slicked finger inside.

“Relax,” soothed Derek. The calming tone almost felt out of place coming from his lips. Stiles was so used to angry words and harsh insults, and they certainly didn’t come on angel’s wings. More like with the aggression of a rabid dog or bloodthirsty bat.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one with something up your ass,” replied Stiles somewhat aggravated and a little broken whilst Derek pushed passed the initial ring of muscle. “Well, unless you count the stick that I’d bet any money is always there.”

Derek curled his finger abruptly and Stiles breath hitched in his chest at the unexpected pang of pleasure it sent up the length of his spine.

“Everyone’s a virgin at one point, Stiles.” The older male raised an eyebrow before pulling out. Stiles whined at the loss of contact whilst processing what this meant. Coating two fingers instead of the one, Derek pressed into Stiles a second time and when the sounds of discomfort turned to pleasure, began a slow thrusting motion.

“Derek Hale… Ah… _Bottomed_?”

Derek gave a half nod in agreement before turning his attention back to the task of preparing the teen. He had snuck in a third one this time, and with the generous amount of lube he had applied and the temporary distraction, Stiles almost didn’t notice.

“Oh… fuck.. Ahh… You have to… you have to tell me who.”

“I really don’t.”

Stiles frowned, but it melted right off his face in no time flat when Derek’s other hand took the younger male’s cock in his hand and began to jack. The dual pleasure of both Derek’s fingers in his ass, and the rest stroking his weeping organ, had Stiles almost completely bowed off the table now. It wasn’t entirely a comfortable position, but he didn’t care.

This time when Derek removed his fingers, finishing with a sharp stab with four fingers to a bundle of nerves inside Stiles, Derek could hear the audible protest.

“You’re sure about this?” asked Derek.

Stiles pulled himself up with his elbows so he could look at the man, ignoring the scratch on his elbows from whatever was underneath the red sheet they lay on.

“Yeah,” he said, and even Stiles was a little surprised with how quickly that answer came.

“I do this and there’s no turning back.” Derek threw his clean hand back to ruffle through his hair. With his legs spread the way they were, his cock on perfect display, Stiles was having a hell of a time concentrating on Derek’s words. He desperately wanted to get his hands on him, to run his tongue all over the swollen head, but the teen wanted it inside him more. He needed it. Literally.

“If I do this. You are mine, Stiles.”

The human’s eyes went a little wider at this, even though he knew full well that that might be the case. It was just scarier when he gave it more thought. Wolves mate for life, he remembered reading somewhere, and Derek certainly did not yet have a mate. Derek's a werewolf, so it's not like the rule was exactly solid. He was part wolf. Did it mean all those others were just sex? What made Stiles so special that Derek would think he was mate material? Stiles had always thought his crush on the man was one-sided though, so there was every doubt in his mind that unless within his own fantasies, Derek would reject him soon after the deed was done. Mating never really came up. It didn’t seem possible. Though now that Derek said it, it felt surprisingly real.

If this went well, and Stiles had a wonderful feeling it would, he wouldn’t be able to get rid of Derek.

A second realization came that he didn’t want to.

Leaning forward awkwardly, finding it to be nowhere near as simple a task as expected to reach for Derek with just one arm, Stiles fingers brushed over the other man’s knuckles. The man’s hand had come to lay flat against the table next to Stiles side, when he had leant closer. 

The night air rushed through the broken down building and surrounded them again, and Stiles shivered a little as it cooled the fluid which Derek had used to work him open. Derek seemed surprisingly calm, even though on the inside there was a caged beast thrashing against the bars, as he waited for Stiles answer. Derek tried to ignore the delicious spike in his middle as his cock accidentally brushed against Stiles’. They moaned in almost unison.

“Derek,” Stiles was looking right into the wolf’s eyes, and they were already a little glassy. “I want you to do this.”

In one swift motion, Derek dragged Stiles body closer to him, wrinkling the fabric underneath them, and immediately directed his dick to the human’s slick hole. Stiles watched carefully, and there was fear there but also a great deal of want. Derek focussed on that as he reached down to guide himself to his target, making sure the entry would be as smooth and steady as possible.

“This _will_ hurt,” Derek warned, deciding it would be better to tell Stiles ahead of time rather than just barrelling in and hoping for the best. “You need to relax.”

Stiles made a sound of agreement and lowered himself back to the table. His head made a slight clunk sound as he hit it and he cursed under his breath.

Derek wasn’t wrong. Of course he wasn't. The pain was intense to start and Stiles found himself scrunching his eyes shut so tight he thought they just forge closed — as if that would help. The burn, despite Derek’s careful preparation was immense and the younger male’s toes curled as the pain shot through him like electricity through a power cord. He screamed as he felt every inch of the slow slide inside him, and he almost yelled for the brunette to pull out. 

At the halfway mark, Derek stopped pushing, and Stiles suddenly felt the alpha’s hands  on his sides again, rubbing up and down, easing his eyes open.

“St-iles,” he groaned, it sounded like he had to force the word from his lips. Perhaps he was hurting too.

Stiles was breathing fast again, like he’d just run a race or jumped over a hundred hurdles spaced way too close together. The worst wasn’t over, not yet. Derek wasn’t even to home plate yet. When stole a glance up at Derek, he looked like he was about to explode, and there were sharp pricks making his long talons even more known against Stiles’ flesh.

“Take deep breaths. Stop clenching.”

Siles did as he was told, and the pain did fortunately ease a bit, but there was still discomfort. Perhaps because Derek still had a ways to go and the real fun hadn’t even begun yet. Wait. Fun. Apart from the earlier make out session, Stiles wasn’t sure if what was happening now could be classified as that.

Derek’s hands were a little rough as they moved against Stiles skin, trying to calm him further, but the slight scratch gave the younger male something to concentrate on rather than the pressure inside him. Speaking of pressure. Stiles unfolded one of his arms from under his head and slid it down his front until it reached his cock and then he gripped it tightly. He spasmed a bit at the mere touch as he was so hard it was almost painful, but it held his attention and he was able to relax enough to loosen up.

Taking Stiles much more pleasant expression to mean he was ready, Derek pushed the rest of the way in as swiftly as possible to avoid drawing out the pain any longer. The burn was still there, but when the alpha had buried himself completely to the hilt and slammed hard against a particular sensitive bundle of nerves, Stiles cried out loud.

“Jesus! Oh my …Ohh.” 

Derek gave Stiles time to adjusted to the impossible fullness, simply grinding against him for a moment or two until again he could see the tell-tale signs of pleasure of the man’s face, and then pulled back slowly. He didn’t go far the first time, worried he might have hurt Stiles, but then his eyes flew open again after the shallow thrust and Derek knew the pain had been buried and another feeling had taken control.

“Derek, just ..go …go go go… Now!”

He pulled out almost all the way this time, to the point where he nearly had exited Stiles body completely, just the head of his cock keeping him wide and open for him, then Derek gave an experimental thrust. Testing the speed to see if it was too much, just right, or not enough. 

Stiles hand, which was moving lazily on his cock, was a blur now.

“Slow down,” said Derek. At this rate Stiles would blow before they had barely got going. It also looked like he was about to have an aneurism or something, and Derek wondered if Stiles was always this enthusiastic with his wanking.

Derek’s rhythm soon quickened to the pain where Stiles legs were trembling and Derek was starting to lose feeling in his thighs from the way he was positioned. He stopped thrusting with all the control he could muster, cutting down the speed but still grinding as if some unseen force was denying him the right to stop all movement, and then moved back to the edge of the table before stepping off one leg at a time.

“Oh god… uh..uhh Derek… wh-what are you ..ohhh!”

The jostling was sending shockwaves through Stiles body, his no longer virginal body, and each one felt twenty times more intense than it probably should have. This was his first time after all. He’d never done this before. As much as he hoped each time after this would go just the same, Stiles relished in each surge as the feeling that after this point, sex would only go  down hill, became ever present. Fucking just anyone surely wouldn’t be as enjoyable as fucking a werewolf.

Not bothering to pull out, Derek held out his hand for Stiles to grab.

“Here,” he said roughly, his voice low in is throat, giving Stiles chills for a whole different reason.

Stiles took it without question, well not vocal at least. His expression seemed to be asking a whole lot at once.

Derek didn’t say anything more, he just smiled and pulled Stiles up to an almost seated position. The younger male winced as he was jerked closer, cock still firmly planted in his ass, and when Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ middle, he did the same but around the other male’s neck.

The angled changed completely, and definitely not in a bad way. Stiles mouth fell open as Derek gripped him tightly around his waist. He lifted him slightly off his dick like he weighed nothing at all before slamming him back down again and repeating over and over again until establishing a steady pattern. 

Stiles wouldn’t say he was necessarily fit per se, but he wasn’t unhealthy either. He clenched the muscles in his abdomen as tight as he could, and using the muscle he did have in his arms to aid Derek, he lifted himself upwards. Stiles could feel the ripples in the alpha’s muscles as he continued to bounce up and down, spearing himself on his first ever cock, and his own rubbed against Derek’s abs leaving a smear in its wake, disrupted every time he moved.

“Derek, Derek, Derek.” the werewolf’s name fell as a mantra from Stiles lips, and the aforementioned knew the teen was close. He was honestly surprised Stiles had made it this long, to be honest.

Stiles was the one to come first, expectedly. He could feel it dripping down his own front and surely it was all over Derek’s as well. Though he couldn’t see it, the visual in his minds eye was spectacular. Normally the first thing he would do was reaching for the warm cloth, but Stiles felt oddly content where he was. 

Since he didn’t see one around and Derek showed no signs of slowing, still chasing his own release, Stiles simple smiled into the older male’s neck and held on for the ride, letting out faint groans and pleasant moans as the shards of pleasure from his own orgasm spread out within him.

As Stiles waited for Derek to finish, a dull pulse within his body where the man’s cock was still thudding up into him, he realized that the aftereffect of his own climax wasn’t the only thing spreading. The pulse grew stronger and stronger, like the loud beating of a heart when you pressed your face to someone’s chest — it’s solid and violent, and just  how he thought Derek’s might be like right now if he had the space to test that theory — and soon any pleasure remaining in Stiles was gone in a flash.

The pain was back,  intermixed, just like it had never left him.

“Oh .. Oh my go— Oh my…! Derek!”

Derek said nothing, just kept on going, moving his hips at a lightening speed and gripping Stiles ass cheeks so hard the latter full expected there would be quite healthy bruises there in the morning. The thrusts felt good, the slick feel of Derek’s dick sliding against his insides made him lose his breath, but the strike to his prostate was beginning to become unbearable. Fortunately he didn’t have to much longer as Derek stilled suddenly.

He laid Stiles back down on the table as gently as he could but didn’t pull out.

“Wha-what is th-th …Ohmygod! What is that?” Stiles felt a immediate heat in his core and Derek let out a deep growling sound as he threw back his head and came.

“Woah! Dude!” Stiles wasn’t sure what to expect. He’d never done this before. But after several minutes had passed, it was clear to him that this wasn’t something that normally happened.

Derek opened his eyes slowly, and his breathing gradually slowed to a normal speed. There were scratch marks on Stiles skin, nothing deep enough to turn him or anything, but he was sure to check anyway for blood. Nothing. Just angry pink lines.

“Sorry,” he said softly, and Stiles wasn’t even sure if sound had actually come out, he just recognized the movement on Derek’s lips. He’d used it enough times himself o recognize it anywhere.

Stiles made a face as if to say, _What the fuck!_ , his eyes wide and his mouth hanging slack as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t exactly figure out how to put it into words. The throbbing inside of him was still ongoing, and after Stiles discovered trying to pull back himself only caused shoots of pain to spark off every which way, that it best not to move.

“As much as I’m… en-enjoying the closeness, and all, Derek… I think you could pr… uh…prrobably pull out now,” the teen said around winces of pain and the odd gasp of pleasure. He wasn’t sure what to feel.

“I can’t,” came the reply.

“You can’t. Okay, you… can’t. Wuh, wuh… wuh-why can’t you?”

“It’s called a knot, Stiles.”

“A knot? That sounds alarmingly… permanent.”

Derek nodded.

“It swells up after intercourse to ensure insemination with the females. Stops them from running away. I have no control of it, I’m sorry,” Derek explained in the best way he could, to which Stiles looked almost horrified.

“Isn’t that something you should have … _oh, god_ … something you should have warned me about?”

Derek nodded again.

“I should have, yes. I just, well … obviously you’re not a female so I didn’t expect it to be an issue.”

Stiles rolled his eyes.

“How long does this … ‘insemination’ process usually last?”

Derek turned his head to face the wall where an analog clock was ticking loudly. In reality it probably wasn’t all that loud, but to his heightened senses it was as annoying in this moment as a bee buzzing about his ear.

“How long, Derek?”

“Half an hour. Maybe more. Do you have somewhere to be?”

Stiles, for once, was speechless.

 _Not anymore_.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me your thoughts on it in the comments. Not written BxB in ages, and not too familiar w/ everything so forgive me. I will admit I've no idea what colour Derek's eyes are so if it's wrong, let me know please. xD


End file.
